


Darling, I'm waiting to greet you

by BeccabooO1O



Series: You're flying high at the show (I'm feeling hot to the touch) [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dancing, F/M, Fluff, I swear this all makes sense, Napoleon Bonaparte - Freeform, Painting, Paul Revere - Freeform, World War II painting, although I still hate galas with a passion, gala - Freeform, honestly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-10
Updated: 2015-07-10
Packaged: 2018-04-08 15:44:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4311045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeccabooO1O/pseuds/BeccabooO1O
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The man opened a door to one of the rooms and scanned the walls. “It’s not in here.” He announced. He shut the door and opened the next one. “Not here, either.” He closed it.</p><p>Open. “No.” Close.</p><p>And open. “Nope.” And close.</p><p>“Not- Oh my. I am so sorry, ma’am.” He had opened the door to a couple getting frisky on a loveseat in front of multiple portraits of Napoleon Bonaparte. She had seen some pretty odd stuff, but that probably made the top three - right up there with the whole Christmas in July experience and watching the brothers sit down and have a tea party with a victim’s four year old daughter while on a case.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Darling, I'm waiting to greet you

**Author's Note:**

> And the second part of 'You're flying high at the show (I'm feeling hot to the touch)' that nobody asked for!
> 
> Title is from Bel Air by Lana again because I am in love with her - even if I do feel like she'd be that girl to disappear during a sleepover only to be found later on getting it on with the dad

The three arrived at the estate where the gala was being held and Dean made sure to stay as far away from any valets as possible. Nobody was allowed to drive Baby but Dean. Once they found a place to park the Impala, all four got out. Sam and Cas shared a look after they watched Dean help her out of the car, his hand lingering on her arm. As soon as her back was turned to the boys, Sam nudged his older brother and raised his eyebrows a bit, motioning towards the woman in front of them.

“Do you wish to have sexual intercourse with her, Dean?” Cas asked curiously, tilting his head to the side as he looked at her. Dean’s face heated up considerably and silently prayed that she was out of earshot.

“Jesus Christ, Cas, not so loud.”

“But you’re not denying it.” Sam pointed out, smirking knowingly at his brother.

“Shut up.” Dean said as he walked to catch up with her. He offered her his arm like a gentleman and she took it, slipping her hand through the crook of his elbow. She smiled up at him and Dean couldn’t help but smile back. He wondered if she knew that her eyes lighted up when she smiled.

They gave their invitations to the doorman and walked into the estate. She marveled at the beauty inside. The walls were decorated with various paintings and bookshelves full of classic literature. She wouldn’t mind living in a place like this - that was for sure.

They soon found the demon, a supposed curator of sorts. He looked to be in his early thirties - which surprised her completely. She was expecting him to be a lot older, but his age might make it easier for her to get him alone so Dean could gank him - or she could do it, too, if need be.

She left Dean, Sam, and Cas and strode over to the man, making sure to sway her hips slightly and get into the character of a woman who would do anything - absolutely anything - to get her hands on a painting to perfect her collection of World War II portraits - which was utter bullshit, but she needed to get close to this guy.

Sure enough, the man walked the short distance to where she was.

The two stood next to each other, observing one of the paintings on a white wall, before he spoke up. “What is such an exquisite young woman like yourself doing here all alone?” He smiled a rather charming smile as he spoke.

“Just enjoying the art.” She said simply, returning with a charming smile of her own.

“That can’t be the only reason.” He prompted.

“I’ll let you in on a little secret.” She announced, moving closer to the man. “I’m hoping to get my hands on a rather unique portrait from the second World War.”

“And how would you go about getting it?”

“I would do absolutely anything.” She smiled flirtatiously and looked at the man - well, demon - through her thick eyelashes.

“Anything?” His voice became a little rougher as he stared down at her.

“Anything.” She confirmed, her voice dropping an octave and her expression turning to something that was hopefully desperate, but not too needy.

It seemed to do the trick. “I think I saw one upstairs.” He took her by the hand and led her through the dancing couples to the staircase that wound up to some of the private rooms. She looked over her shoulder and spotted Dean staring at her in something that looked like wonder. She rose an eyebrow at him and Sam, who was nearby, nudged him. The older Winchester came out of his trance, but still watched carefully as she ascended the steps with their demon, heading to God only knows where.

The man opened a door to one of the rooms and scanned the walls. “It’s not in here.” He announced. He shut the door and opened the next one. “Not here, either.” He closed it.

Open. “No.” Close.

And open. “Nope.” And close.

“Not- Oh my. I am so sorry, ma’am.” He had opened the door to a couple getting frisky on a loveseat in front of multiple portraits of Napoleon Bonaparte. She had seen some pretty odd stuff, but that probably made the top three - right up there with the whole Christmas in July experience and watching the brothers sit down and have a tea party with a victim’s four year old daughter while on a case.

He opened one more door at the end of the hallway and commented, “Aha!” before taking her by the hand again and leading her to a small sofa. She sat down and he strolled around the room, looking for the portrait that had gotten her up here.

“Here it is!” He turned around and pointed to his prized portrait. “Your World War Two portrait.”

“That’s a painting of Paul Revere.” She deadpanned, looking him straight in the eyes. “From the Revolutionary War.” It was true. It was a colored painting of Paul Revere riding on his horse through a small town, assumedly shouting his famous line towards the townspeople, ‘The British are coming! The British are coming!’

He walked up her and placed his sweaty hands on her bare shoulders. “Who else would know the difference?” He was leaning in towards her face, his eyes targeting onto her pink lips.

She tried to look anywhere but at him and her eyes purchased on a pair of black shoes shuffling around from the other side of the door. She saw the door knob turn and heard the wooden door open. She could not have been happier to see Dean slink into the room.

“My boyfriend might.” The last thing that the demon saw before Dean started to recite the exorcism was her thinly veiled smirk. He let go of her and stumbled backwards into the loveseat, his eyes black and his mouth opened in the shape of a silent scream.

When the older brother finished the exorcism, the demon left the man’s body in a cloud of black smoke and the body slumped against the cushions. She checked to make sure his pulse was still there. Satisfied with the heart rate, she walked over to Dean and slapped his outstretched hand. She didn’t even have to reach that far with her heels!

“Boyfriend?” He asked, waggling his eyebrows playfully at her.

“It was clever at the time.” She shrugged her shoulders, smirking up at him as she passed him on her way out the door and down the hallway.

“Uh-huh.” He commented as he followed her down the staircase to the rest of the party. As soon as her heel hit the marble floor, she was swooped away by a group of dancing couples.

Dean searched the floor and started to make his way over to her bewildered dancing form when he found her. She was in the arms of an unknown man, who - at the moment - was being quite handsy, grabbing fistfuls of her black dress as he spun her around. He noticed that everytime she put distance between the two, the man would close the gap again. Dean shoved other dancing couples as he walked over to the two.

“May I cut in?” The Winchester announced from behind the man. She smiled and agreed, hastily letting go of her previous dance partner and trading him for Dean.

“Why do all the pretty ones have boyfriends?” Dean heard the man mumble to himself as he walked away. He smirked as he pulled her closer. They began dancing to the skillful piano and the accompanying singer’s smooth voice.

“Everyone seems to think we’re together.” So she must have heard the man, too.

“I don’t know why.” Dean joked. “We’re not dancing like a couple would.”

“Oh, really?” She smiled up at him, one of her arched eyebrows raised. “Fine, if we were actually together, what would be different?”

“Well, first I would do this.” He wrapped his arm tighter around her than before. “And this.” He lowered his hand to a place lower on her back.

“Is that all?” She asked, her expression never wavering.

“Then I would do this.” He pulled her towards him quickly, their chests touching. Her eyes widened slightly at his boldness and he himself was wondering where that had come from.

She regained her composure. “And then what?” She asked, slightly breathless from their proximity.

Dean looked at their hands chastly clasped together. She followed his gaze. “And then this.” He manipulated their hands until their fingers were interlacing. He then brought their hands closer to their sides.

“And then-” He started.

She interrupted him, “-I would do this.” She tilted her head until their foreheads were barely touching. Their breathing mixed and mingled like people at a bar on Single’s Night.

Dean decided he was going to go for it. He tipped his head the rest of the way and kissed her. He would be lying if he said that he expected her to kiss him back. So anyone would understand that he almost froze in surprise when she kissed him back almost instantaneously. He had to remember that he couldn’t stop dancing, which was hard to maintain when something that he had been waiting for - maybe even dreaming about - for the past several months was finally happening to him.

“What was that?” She asked when they broke away, too soon in Dean’s opinion.

“The next thing I would do if we were together.” He said simply, smiling down at her.

“Anything else?”

“That’s all I had thought through, actually.” He conceded, making her smile up at him before resting her head on his shoulder as the two danced in circles around the other couples.

“Do you really wish to have ‘sexual intercourse’ with me?” She asked cheekily, her breath on his neck.

“Shut up.”

“Because I wouldn’t be against it, just so you know.” She looked up at him and smiled. He returned her smile before leaning down and kissing her another time. Neither of them noticed Sam nor Cas bumping fists as they watched the frutation of what had been weeks of hard work and strenuous planning to push those two together.

**Author's Note:**

> And that's the end of this little story for me and I hope that you like it. Come join me on tumblr - under livelaughloveboo
> 
> Remember to Smile :)  
> ~Becca


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